Hatred
by DarkStarInOrbit
Summary: Soul Eater One-shot, Maka's past has forced her into a dark future, provoking a certain white haired boy.


**So yeah, I got really bored earlier on and decided to write a one-sot, none of the characters have the same personality, but I thought it would be kind of cool to write something like this, I never have done before and honestly, it was actually quite hard, hahaha anyhoo enjoy! **

It wouldn't be wrong to take their lives, he was younger but only by a year or two, he didn't have fighting experience but he had determination. The boy's grip tightened on his pocketknife. These people were the ones that murdered his parents. He eyed the apparently innocent looking girl, she was a murderer, and he was going to kill her.

'I'm so tired of these brats! Everyone is the same, they're all stupid!' The girl thought to herself before kicking her anger out on the weak wooden chair. Completely unaware of the boy on the rooftops.

**Maka POV**

My dad is practically the devil himself, everyone knows what a womanizer he is and yet they still admire the bastard, they just don't know the true him. They all want me to be like him, they don't know that he's an abusive bastard. To use my weapon form for the 'good', well what if I didn't want to be good? What if I was tired of being abandoned and hated everything they did. I am a scythe meister, and I don't have a partner so I wield myself, one of the advantages of being both. I am also (apparently) prt angel or some crap like that but I don't care, how the hell is a halo supposed to help me in battle?

I look over at Blackstar to see him practically bathing in the alcohol. He's no help either. I scowl. We live in a hell hole, there isn't even a roof but luckily it doesn't rain in Death City. We do have a makeshift wall though, blocking sight from the street, not that anyone even comes down this part of the city, they know better.

We follow orders, we don't do anything on our own accord. I hate this. Arachne thinks she's so good at all this, when in reality I could do better on my own. She pares me up with an obnoxious brat of a meister with no weapon that can't think of anything else than how 'awesome' he is. Don't you just hate life? Being famous doesn't help either, the one and only Maka Albarn, I have to wear a mask on every mission. The mask only covers half my face and I have to wear stupid pigtails as part of the 'costume'. Long socks wrap around my legs and I wear this stupid pleated miniskirt. The only decent thing is a light yellow jumper with no sleeves, I feel like a schoolgirl in this. I'm young enough to be one but it just doesn't feel right to dress with the innocence of one.

"Blackstar." He barely looks up, I get a measly reply of 'M'. I can't be bothered with him, "I'm going out." He just nods. Ugh. He's five years older than me and I have more of a conscience than him. Fifteen years old, and I live in a dump, I have a job and that's killing people. I leave the pathetic thing I call home and make my way towards this abandoned apartment down the road, it's worse than our 'house' but it's a place to get away from everything.

**Flashback**

"MUUUMMMY!" the little girl screamed, she was on the steps of her mansion, screaming with all her might, her mother lay on top of her once in a protective manor but now the woman was limp, gashes printed around her body. Her blonde hair fallen across her face but her eyes were still visible, the once green eyes now a lifeless grey. Moments later Lord Death ran in holding her father in his hands. "Mummy" the girl whispered, she no longer had the courage to shout. Her pink dress was splattered with blood and her bare feet now felt very cold against the supposedly warm carpet. "Kami?" she heard her father's voice, over and over again, repeating the same words until it was a scream.

**Back to normal**

Maka felt a tear slip down her cheek as she remembered the day, she was weak back then, if only she had learnt how to use her weapon form back then, if only she hadn't refused lessons and spent so much time reading pointless books, and then maybe things wouldn't have turned out this way. Maybe she would have had another choice than having to join a gang, maybe that way she wouldn't have been dragged into this mess, she wouldn't have been beaten, and she wouldn't have been rejected so much, by her own father.

**Another flashback**

"Papa?" he turned around, eyes rimmed with tears, "I hate you" he said. The little girl clutched her top, "Papa!?" he stood up and slapped right round the face "I HATE YOU! WHY THE HELL DO YOU HAVE TO LOOK SO MUCH LIKE HER!? WHY DO I HAVE TO KEEP YOU WITH ME?!" she stumbled back, gasping for breath, Papa had never hit her not even when he was drunk like this "I-I'm sorry p-paa-pa." He hissed in her ear "Get out." So she did, but she didn't come back.

**Soul POV**

I watched as the girl's arm transformed into a scythe, I watched as she started slashing at the wall as she screamed "I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!" until it seemed that she just didn't have it in her any more. What was wrong with this girl? It was the same one that had killed his parents the same girl that rumbled manic laughter through the house, the same one with that grin that opened just too wide for comfort, but there was more to it. I decided that today wouldn't be the day that I killed her. As good as an opportunity as it was, it wasn't the right moment, and I needed to find out more about her, it would give me an opening.

I placed the knife back in my pocket, plus, this small thing wouldn't even give me a chance at killing her. I need a gun, and I need strength. It was getting dark, but I didn't go home, I couldn't. The police thought I was dead, I'd seen it in the newspaper. My pinstriped suit was far too recognisable to wear around, so I had to use a yellow and black hood, hood up all the time ovcourse and red jeans. If I told them that I was alive, then I wouldn't be able to take my revenge. I'd be too busy being taken into custody, too busy with a foster family, a family I didn't want. Maybe even therapy, even though I wasn't mad. When I'd watched the girl slash through my parents and mother, I felt helpless, hiding in a cupboard, as my Mom had told me to. They'd killed my brother too, and despite my hatred for him I still cared, I loved him too.

I left the rooftops, I felt really calm, which is not what I expected, I was actually hoping to go full psycho on them, see her face and boil up, go mad start screaming, I needed the release but it just wouldn't come. I felt empty.

**Maka POV**

Our target was a teacher at the shibusen high school. His name was Stein, apparently he used to be Spirit's partner, and I no longer refer to him as 'father' or 'papa'. We'd been tracking him for the past month after the killing of the Evans family; apparently Arachne had history with them. It's always personal business, but when you're a killer it's better to leave every emotion behind you and become a weapon. Nothing else. You should feel emotionless, because emotions just get in the way of the job. I did have one use of my angelic powers actually; they allowed me to fly, unfortunately every time I chose that, I'd be put in some stupid white dress. Stereotypical and cliché.

This time I needed to fly, because we were both behind schedule and if we didn't succeed, I'd get beaten by one of Arachne's henchmen. Again. "Dammit Blackstar, why are you so heavy?" He just laughs, he doesn't say much these days, I think that, our job is finally getting to him, all the murder. Lately he'd been leaving at night and wouldn't come back until the morning, whenever I asked about what he was doing he'd shrug me off or reply with "None of your buissness".

We arrived. I put Blackstar down. He looked at me. "Maka, you seem down lately." "No." I reply, he shrugs and walks to catch up with me. "You know, some trust is involved in being partnered assassins" He says "Hypocrite" I spit. "Ok, I tell you, you tell me" "Not now, Blackstar we're on a mission, grow up." He sends me a glare.

We're about to walk through the gates to Stein's house when a voice stops us. "Not another step." It says. We turn, only to see a tanned white haired boy step out of the shadows.

**Soul POV**

"Not another step" I tell them. I'd been watching them every day, working on my aim with a gun and crossbow. I'm a very fast learner, it ran in the families blood, so by now I was almost a master, constant days of practise, and nights of watching these bastards go out, kill, go back to their base, a whole month of watching that man get high and that girl lash out on objects around her. They were definitely messed up. "Excuse me?" The blue haired boy says, "We're here to visit a friend." He says. "Liar." I reply, I lift the crossbow from behind my back. The girl intervenes "You don't want to do that" She says her voice not comprehensive but threatening and chilling to the bone, I stand my ground. "Oh yes I do." I say. That grin cracks across her face, that ugly grin that shows she really isn't joking, I'd seen it for the past month "I know you don't I? Or at least there is a reason for you to do this crap." I don't answer, "Hmm, white hair, red eyes... You must be Soul Evans" "Soul Eater" I correct. She bursts out laughing, "I don't see what's funny." I say "No you wouldn't would you? Leave kid before you end up dead in a trashcan."

"Touché" I spit. The girl starts to get irritated, I can see it on her face, "I don't have time for this, Blackstar, and kill him"Blackstar moves forward," Too afraid to fight your own battles?" I ask her, crossbow aimed at the man in front of me. "Blackstar, you can handle Stein? This brat is annoying me." The man moves towards, the building, I couldn't care less, this is the anger that I've been waiting for. The girl approaches me. Her mask covers the top half of her face; it's white and has red lace patterns circling the eyeholes, it reminds me of a 'masked-ball' costume. Her green eyes bore into mine. "This is your last chance Evans, leave while you have the chance." "I'm not backing down, and I've told you, my name is Eater. " Her arm transforms and she smiles, no she grins. "Enough small talk" she hisses and then her long legs stretch out in a run straight towards me, I shoot. She disappears, I missed but she just disappeared, then I hear a cackle from behind me, "Miss me miss me!" she sings, before pirouetting over me and kicking my legs from underneath me, "Oh no, the little boy fell over." She laughs. She's mad! I pant and stand up. Remember your practise. I tighten my grip on the crossbow and dodge her constant kicks, followed by giggles "Not bad." She says. I swing my free hand and it makes contact with the side of her face, sending her head backward. She stands there still before moving forward like a rag doll. "It's not nice to hit girls." She pouts before laughing maniacally and chasing after me, she swings her metal blade arm. It cuts the edge of my shoulder and I take in a sharp breath. I move back, feet flat on the ground. "Bitch." I mutter, she laughs again. "Well, isn't this fun? But you're too slow Soul! Catch up with me!"

She runs and I chase after her. I follow her into a cemetery, there's fog across the floor and it's so thick that I can't see below my knees.

**Maka POV**

I run into the cemetery, forgetting that this is the place, the only place dear to me, I can't fight here, it's too painful. Quickly I lay down on the floor, the fog is thick enough to not see me and I cover my mouth with the neck of my jumper so I don't suffocate. I have no buissness with Soul, most surviving victims run and I don't ever come across them again. Why did he have to make things so complicated? I have to get rid of him. How? I scare him. I can't deal with anything, not here, not where my mother's remains are so close to me. I know what to do.

I change forms, my wings growing, but this time they are not the white colour I expect them to be, my wings represent my mood and right now, they are a deadly black, spikes decorating the tips. I float upwards, the moon dripping blood, eager for entertainment. He's not getting any today. "Soul Leave." I tell him. A power I never use, control. He looks up at me; I can see his Soul resisting the pull of dark magic. My dress drips down to the floor. I don't have a halo; I'm not a full angel just partial. "Leave." I say again, I see his Soul resisting even more, I can see that it hurts him. All the adrenaline and joy from the fight earlier on has disappeared. There's no longer a rush. This time I shout at him, but the resistance he's pulling off is remarkable. I know that he can't take much more "Y-you killed my parents, and my b-brother." He says, his legs wobble a bit and he drops the crossbow, no longer able to both stand and hold weight. I flinch, I hate this job, I can't show him any weakness to him, to anyone so I quickly cover up the moment of pain in my eyes, I can feel it. All the sadness and despair leaking off of him. "Go." I say, again. His eyes close, with his very last struggle.


End file.
